


A Winding Road

by lily8007



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: Coming Out, F/M, Gen, Trans Male Character, Trans!Jason Todd, Trope Bingo Round 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 07:59:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18988537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily8007/pseuds/lily8007
Summary: Talia al Ghul thought she was saving her Beloved's cherished and tragically-lost daughter.  It turns out she's mentoring his son, instead.  She does her best to be the friend Jason Todd needs as he finds his way through a new life with perhaps more possibilities than before.Or, How to Be a Trans Ally, by Talia al Ghul.





	A Winding Road

**Author's Note:**

> The author is not trans but when this plotbunny bit me, I consulted with several friends and acquaintances who are. I hope this portrayal rings true.
> 
> This was written for [Trope Bingo Round Twelve](https://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/229696.html), for the prompt "transformations".

Talia didn’t recognize the young woman at first glance.  Every time they met during this hastily-planned training, Jade seemed to grow slightly taller, but something else had changed, something that made Talia’s eye skip over the girl, then dart back.

She’d cut her hair back drastically.  Just when it had started to grow out, too, which Talia found a trifle sad.  The girl’s blue-black hair with its shock of white in the front was distinctive, and beautiful.  The lack of it wasn’t the whole reason why Talia had failed to recognize her. Something about her profile and stance had changed, which Talia noted for further study as she approached.

Jade looked apprehensive, so Talia chose to be reassuring without seeming to coddle her.  Between her age and the Lazarus fever, the girl was very sensitive to any hint of insult. “You look well,” she said.  “A pity I cannot say the same for your teacher.”

“He had a list of politicians he wanted to poison,” Jade replied, hunching her shoulders, keeping both hands in her pockets.  “Which, most politicians are dirtbags, but he was gonna off their families, too.”

Talia nodded.  “The death of innocents should be prevented.  Very well, we shall find you another. In the meantime, come to the hotel with me.”

“Sure,” she said, and fell into step beside Talia.  Who noted with some chagrin that Jade would likely end up taller than she was.  And unlike Talia’s slim build, the younger woman tended toward a more muscular frame.

Jade was still nervous about something, and Talia ignored it as she got the girl settled into her suite and ordered room service, with an extra portion.  Jade still ate as if she were making up for those years of privation in her youth. The Lazarus Pit had corrected the effects of malnutrition, but she still had some growth left to accomplish, and the fast metabolism of an adolescent.

While they awaited the food, Talia sat down at the desk, watching Jade stare out the window.  “Is there anything you need?” she asked, hoping that was the safest avenue to approach whatever bothered the girl.

Jade tensed, then turned.  “Yeah. Yeah, there is, I guess.  I … I need a doctor.”

Talia stood up then, crossing the room to her.  Perhaps what she’d seen was some kind of injury.  “Are you wounded? You should have said something sooner, habibti.”

Oddly, Jade flinched from her.  “No, no, it’s nothing like that.  I just … it’s hard to explain.”

Talia studied her charge.  “My father and I have some of the finest physicians in the world on retainer.  I need to know which specialty to choose.”

Jade turned away from her, almost cringing, as if uncomfortable in her own skin.  “I … never mind. I’ll handle it.”

Carefully, Talia touched her shoulder, looking at her with tender concern until Jade met her gaze again.  “Whatever it is has troubled you, Jade. As your friend and your mentor, I would like to see that discomfort alleviated.  Please, let me help you. You can tell me anything.”

She was expecting some form of psychiatric issue, and knew from bitter experience the rages and paranoias the Lazarus Pit could wake.  But when Jade finally spoke, it was nothing Talia could have foreseen.

The girl bit her lip, then gave a heavy sigh.  “I guess … I need an endocrinologist.” Talia arched a brow, waiting, and Jade finished miserably, “For hormone therapy.”

“Hormone therapy?” Talia asked, thinking that if she was having feminine troubles, a gynecologist would be more appropriate.

Jade hunched her shoulders again, as if she expected a blow, and said with obvious embarrassment, “I’m not … I’m not a girl.  I’m a guy, and I’m tired of pretending.”

 _That_ was the difference she’d seen.  Jade had bound her breasts, and she was also altering her stride and stance, trying to appear more masculine.  The haircut was part and parcel of the same. Talia bit back her first response, which would have been to ask if she was certain.  After all, Bruce had dressed his second Robin just like the first, and at her young age there had been very little difference to note.  She might have just been confused…

But Talia was aware that the world was more complicated and variable than it seemed on the surface, and it was not her place, as someone who had always felt at home in her body, to doubt Jade’s declaration.  “I am not familiar with the process, but what I have heard implies that it is both lengthy and complicated,” she said at last, feeling her way through the words. “I assume you’ve done some research?”

“Yeah,” Jade replied, warily.

“Then please, refer me to the appropriate sources,” Talia said.  “We must find a physician experienced with this particular situation.”

Jade managed a tremulous smile.  “I didn’t think you’d go along with it.”

Talia clasped the back of her - no, she had better begin now, _his_ neck, and met his eyes seriously.  “I did not bring you back to control you.  I wanted to see you restored to the life that was stolen from you, because I believed - and still believe - you are destined for some greater purpose.  So far as I am concerned, this is part of that task.”

“Thank you,” Jade said hoarsely, finally relaxing.

 

…

 

“Hello, J-Jay,” Talia said, and stumbled over the name, turning it into a diminutive.  She silenced herself, the phone pressed to her ear, waiting for the inevitable recrimination.  

“You almost did it again,” Jason accused.  He sounded angry - he was almost always angry, even more so than when he’d freshly risen from the Pit.  Some of that was the testosterone, she knew from her reading. All hormones had an effect on mood, and testosterone in particular tended to increase aggression.  

“My apologies, Jason,” she said.  It was not worth quarreling over particulars, that she had only _almost_ said the wrong name, not actually done so, and to do so ignored the real reason for his anger.  He had taken offense, and she had to deal with that. It was her own fault, for carelessly stumbling over the name that meant so much to him.  According to what she’d been reading, most men in his position treated such a slip with less anger, unless it were done deliberately - and Jason knew she would never hurt him deliberately.  For him, though, still in the early stages of this transition, the reminder hurt.

It might be early stages to her, but his perception was different, of course, and it was his that mattered.  “It’s been six months,” he growled at her, and yes, it _was_ a growl, his voice noticeably deepened every time they spoke.  “How would you like it if I called you by male pronouns all the time?”

“I would find it ridiculous, not offensive,” Talia pointed out.  “I have never had to face your dilemma, Jason, so I am not sensitized to misused names and pronouns as you are.  I _am_ sorry, habibi.  Old habits are hard to break.”

“Must be nice, not having to correct people,” he muttered.

She laughed softly.  “Oh, it is not so smooth a path as that.  My father would very much prefer a son. Alas, even if I were inclined to follow your path, I doubt he would accept me as such.  We fight different battles, Jason, but we are both warriors.”

He sighed into the phone.  “Yeah, well, your dad is pretty misogynist.  I dunno why you haven’t stuck a sword through him yet.”

She did not answer that, remembering all the times she’d nearly done so … and could not.  Ra’s al Ghul was still her father, and no matter what he did, she loved him too much to take that final step.  Which was her hope for Jason, that when he finally confronted _his_ father, he would discover that he simply couldn’t kill Bruce.

At least his transition offered another means of delaying that revenge, though Talia supported him for more than just that pragmatic reason.  Much research, and long conversations with Jason, had proved to her that this was not a phase, not a reaction to some trauma. It was simply who Jason was.

And she was not helping him with her occasional - it was certainly not ‘all the time’ - slips of the tongue.  She had known of him as Jade for years, and retraining her mind was not easy. That was her problem, however.

Jason sighed again when she didn’t respond to the suggestion of killing her father.  “I know you don’t do it on purpose,” he said. “It just … it burns, Talia. I’m not that girl anymore, and I don’t want to be reminded of her.”

“I will do better, I promise you,” she said.  And thought to herself that he was also using this transition to distance himself from his earlier life, which had ended so painfully.  Jade Patricia Todd had died brutally and too young, at the hands of a madman. Jason Patrick Todd was trying to shed those memories as a snake sheds an old skin, discarding what had become confining.

“Thanks,” he said, mollified, and returned to the _original_ topic.

 

…

 

They planned and scheduled his first surgery together, since Talia’s money was paying for it, but he still looked surprised to see her the morning of.  “I didn’t expect you to come,” Jason admitted. He seemed nervous and excited in equal measure.

“Where else would I be?” Talia asked, and never mind that she’d lied to her father, again, to be here.

The surgeon was one of the best in the field, and Talia watched the staff at the hospital with a practiced eye.  All of them seemed capable and confident to her. She had learned, through her research, that the surgeries he wanted were easier to obtain in Europe than in his home country.  What with the the United States’ for-profit healthcare and frequent religious objections to the entire notion, it was difficult and expensive for men in Jason’s position to do what they wanted with their own bodies.  Which seemed ridiculous to Talia, when so many famous people in the same country poured their wealth into cosmetic surgeries. If someone could change the shape of their nose simply because they didn’t like it, why could legitimate medical needs not be corrected more easily?

She had set up trusts for three of the major surgical centers specializing in transition surgery, to ensure that more men - and women - were able to access these kinds of surgery.  Talia had done so in honor of Jason, but she hadn’t told him about it; she wasn’t trying to curry his favor, and kindness done for a reward was merely selfishness.

He went to the operating room looking both elated and afraid, and Talia kissed his cheek for luck as the gurney began to roll.  Then it was just waiting, and hoping.

They brought her back to the recovery room because Jason was fretful, muttering her name as the drugs wore off and he struggled to consciousness.  Talia sat with him, holding his hand and stroking his brow, and softly sang in Arabic as she had during his mindless year. That soothed him, at last, until some time later he woke completely and looked at her, his blue eyes full of trepidation.

Talia fed him ice chips, first, to wet his throat, and soon the surgeon came in to tell Jason how it had gone.  Beautifully, the surgeon said, no complications at all, and there should be very little scarring. All of which was reassuring to Jason, and a relief to Talia.  Then the nurses came in with post-operative care instructions, explaining how to keep the drains clean and change the dressings. After that it was all paperwork, prescriptions to be filled, and post-surgical appointments to be made.

She drove him back to the hotel he’d rented and helped Jason get into bed.  At first, all he wanted was to sleep, and Talia let him, sitting up beside him and reading while he dozed.  At some point he woke up, saw her there, and smiled. “Guess I’m a real boy now.”

Talia stroked a hand through the white streak in his hair.  “You always were, habibi.”

Jason chuckled, and went back to sleep.

 

…

 

Time passed, and Talia did not see Jason as often as she would’ve liked, but she kept in touch.  He was very happy with the results of his surgery and how his scars were healing, though annoyed that his training had to be delayed while he recovered.  Other milestones passed, and with every call his voice seemed to deepen a little more. Talia, who had thought she’d long since trained her mind and tongue better, slipped and called him habibti once - and Jason only laughed, chiding her gently.  He was at home in his own skin at last, and that was worth everything to Talia.

She wondered sometimes, if he had not died, how this chapter in his life would have played out in Bruce’s care.  Her erstwhile Beloved was quite noble in character, but would he understand this? Or had he already known, even before Jason himself did, letting young Jade dress as the Boy Wonder?

He was nineteen, and growing restless to bring about the confrontation she dreaded, when Talia found him a teacher who demanded formal introductions.  Jason complained, but she met with him beforehand, promising dinner out afterward to make the suit and tie worth wearing. Talia arrived at Jason’s hotel and knocked twice, stepping back.

He opened the door, and for a moment she could only blink in startlement.  It had been months since they’d seen each other after his surgery, months during which his body had continued to reshape itself with testosterone.  Jason stood tall and broad-shouldered, the muscles of his chest defined beneath a dress shirt, and his jawline was harder now, his brow heavier. No one would ever look at him and guess that he hadn’t been born with a Y chromosome.

And Talia looked at him, and saw a man, a very handsome man at that.

She controlled her expression to her usual pleased smile, but something of that realization must have shown, because Jason demanded, “What?  What’s wrong?” as soon as he closed the door behind her.

“Nothing at all,” Talia told him.  “You look very well.”

He gave a bark of laughter.  “Yeah, right. Nobody looks that shocked if someone looks okay.  What is it?”

“Nothing _wrong,_ ” she insisted.  “Come now, finish dressing, we will be late.”

He rolled his eyes.  “I can’t get this stupid tie right,” Jason complained.  “One of those things they never tell you about being a man.  All the stuff you have to learn.”

Talia smiled, and stepped toward him as he snatched the tie off the back of the chair.  “Be at ease, Jason. In my experience, few men can knot their own ties properly. Here, let me.”

He stood still, chin up, as she looped the good silk under his collar and made the knot, snugging it up to his throat.  That left her hands close to his chest, and Talia touched him gently, feeling the planes of hard muscle under her palm.

“Thanks,” Jason said, looking down at her curiously.

“You are very handsome,” Talia told him, her hand still over his heartbeat.

“Is that what surprised you?” he asked, with a faint trace of bitterness.  “That I turned out good-looking?”

He was drawing all the wrong conclusions, and Talia didn’t know how to set them right.  How could she tell him that he looked very masculine, and very much _himself_ at last, without reminding him that he had once not been as he saw himself?  There was no compliment to give that would not have that shadow of bitterness to it, that he had had to struggle to be as he was now.

So instead, she hooked her fingers under the knot she’d just tied, and tugged him down to kiss his mouth.  Not as a mentor paying a compliment, but as a woman bold enough to kiss a man she found attractive.

That was the heart of it, wasn’t it?  She’d been surprised because she found him _attractive_ , that the sight of him in a dress shirt had spoken to her with yearning.

For an instant his lips were slack with surprise, and then he kissed her back, his hands on her shoulders drawing her close, and Talia stretched up into the kiss with a glad hum in her throat.

They both drew back, Jason looking stunned but pleased, and Talia cupped his jaw.  “ _That_ is what I mean when I say you look well,” she told him, and then stepped away when he tried to draw her close again.  “Not now. We really cannot be late.”

He grinned as he grabbed the jacket and slung it over his shoulders.  “Fine, fine, let’s go.” But he nearly pranced with joy all the way down to the car, and Talia marveled that she could be the author of such happiness.  Perhaps it was simply good for him to be seen as the man he was and wanted to be, by someone whose opinion mattered.

Only once they were at the car did he pause, his hand on the door, and ask with a rakish grin, “So … does ‘not now’ mean ‘maybe later’?”

A dozen thoughts ran through Talia’s mind at once, ranging from _How, exactly?_ to _Oh I really shouldn’t,_ to _He is perhaps too young for me,_ and _Is it me he wants, or the experience?  And does it matter?_  All she said aloud was, “Perhaps, if you play your cards right.  How to flirt with women _is_ one of those things men must learn.”

Jason grinned again, and eyed the split skirt of her dress as she got into the car, and Talia could only chuckle at him.  It had been far too long since she’d been regarded with such open delight.


End file.
